Me and My True Love Will Never Meet Again
by theshipperofallships
Summary: Alan Humphries has finally passed on due to his disease, The Thorns of Death, leaving his lover alone and heart broken at his funeral.


_By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes, Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond. where me and my true love were ever wont to gae on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. And you'll take the high road and I'll take the low road, and I'll be in Scotland afore ye; But me and my true love will never meet again on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond_.

Eric Slingby walked into his home, sighing as he did. He was so glad to be home so he could tend to Alan. The poor thing had had an attack a week ago and he wasn't getting any better. Eric begged William to let him take off work so he could take care of Alan but he wouldn't let that happen and everyday that Eric went to work he would shoot his boss a terrible glare. Really it was just because he was trying to take care of Alan, he didn't want to risk him having an attack while Eric was out. That could end deathly and Eric most definitely didn't want that. The Scotsman put his car keys down on the coffee table and slipped his paperwork onto the coffee table as well before he walked to the back of the house he and Alan shared. Alan seemed quiet, hopefully he was napping. Alan needed as much rest as he could get. Slowly he walk into the bedroom and looked at Alan.

"Alan..?" He asked in a quiet voice. But something didn't seem quite right. Alan was a pale reaper, everyone knew that, but he suddenly looked even paler. Eric walked closer to his seemingly sleeping lover and knelt next to his bedside. Once he had gotten closer he had seen that Alan wasn't breathing. Eric's heart stopped as his eyes widened. "A-Alan? C'mon love wake up fer me." He said softly, holding Alan's small limp hand in his own. "Darlin' please wake up. Please." Tears began to brim in the older reaper's eyes as he squeezed onto Alan's hand. "Alan please, please please I'm beggin' ye, please wake up." He cried, nuzzling his face into Alan's chest. There wasn't his familiar heart beat, there wasn't his calming breath, there wasn't anything. Eric's cried ceased and turned into desperate sobbing as he clutched his lover, refusing to think he was dead. "Please Alan, please." Alan couldn't be dead. He couldn't. He promised he would stay with Eric for as long as he could last. He had to last longer than that. He just had to. More tears tumbled form Eric's eyes as he just gripped his lover's cold body tighter, wanting to feel the warmth that once filled him, wanting to fell Alan wrap his arms around him and tell him it was alright. "Please wake up Alan, please.."

_'Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen, on the steep, steep side of Ben Lomond, Where in purple hue the Hieland hills we view and the moon coming out in the gloaming. And you'll take the high road and I'll take the low road, and I'll be in Scotland afore ye; But me and my true love will never meet again on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond_.

Eric stared down at the coffin that the small, frail reaper laid in. Slowly he reached out and caressed his lover's face before placing an erica blossom by his cheek just as he promised he would. Tears began to brim in his eyes once more as he carefully leaned down and kissed Alan's pale, cold forehead. His tears slowly leaked down his cheeks and his the blossom that sat beside his handsome face. Eric's heart ached and he found it almost impossible to try and keep his emotions to himself. He placed another kiss at Alan's forehead before he pulled away and looked at his lover. Even in death he looked beautiful. Slowly he glanced over his shoulder at the many reapers who sat at the funeral. He only recognized few that truly cared about Alan who silently wept with Eric. He continued to look around, though, at the reaper's who caused Alan so much pain. Who spread rumors about Alan's illness and caused him so much stress, who scared him away from other people, who triggered some of his attacks. Those careless, cold people, how dare they arrive at Alan's funeral and act like they cared? Eric shook his head, turning around to Alan once more as his tears continued flowing strong.

"Alan," he whispered, pushing a lock of brunette hair from his eyes. "Don't ye think it's time ta wake up now? Can' be comfy in tha' coffin." No response. Eric's breath quivered as he remembered that Alan wasn't sleeping, Alan was gone. Gone forever. "Alan ye said ye'd stay." He sobbed, gripping onto the side of the coffin as he felt gravity push down on him.

"Eric," a voice said from behind him as a hand placed itself on his shoulder. "Come on, he has to be buried." Eric shrugged off the hand and the voice that he recognized as Ronald's and placed his forehead softly against Alan's, a sign of affection that Alan used to do to Eric.

"Alan please." He breathed desperately. "Please please please."

"Eric please, you're hurting yourself more than you think." Ronald said gently, taking Eric's shoulder again. "Please, let's just get this over with." Eric trembled slightly as another person walked over to Eric and tried to pry him from Alan's coffin.

"No!" The Scotsman yelled. "No let me go! Let me go! I'm not lettin' Alan go! I can't let him go! Let.. Go of me!"

_The wee birdies sing and the wild flowers spring, and in sunshine the waters are sleeping; but the broken heart it kens nae second spring again, tho' the waters may cease frae their greeting. And you'll take the high road and I'll take the low road, and I'll be in Scotland afore ye; But me and my true love will never meet again on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond_.

Eric stared, still crying softly as he watched Alan's coffin become covered in dirt. He hated the idea of Alan just being put away in the ground. He bit down on his lip, choking back a sob as he watched William walk over to Alan's tomb and place his scythe by it, as tradition, before bowing and walking away. Eric looked around again, hearing the slight sniffs from the people who truly cared about Alan; the people who came because they honestly loved him. He looked around the crowd of people where he spotted Grell; instead of being dressed in crimson as he always was, he dressed in black as tears flowed down his cheeks like a waterfall. Eric then looked to William who— despite his stoic expression— had sadness in his eyes about the loss of his ex-lover. Finally Eric looked to the youngest of Alan's friends: Ronald. The dual haired reaper was sobbing his eyes out at the loss of his brotherly like figure. That crushed Eric's heart. Slowly he walked over to Ronald and wrapped an arm around him as more tears began to flow down his cheeks. Ronald turned slightly, clutching to Eric as he sobbed harder.

"Ronald," Eric said in a quiet but hoarse voice. "A-Alan.. He wouldn' wan' ye to cry. Ye know that." Ronald sniffled, nodding his head as he did.

"H-He wouldn't want y-you to cry either." Eric nodded his head, biting down on his lip as he carefully wiped his eyes as he watched Alan's coffin disappear into the ground. He let out a quite whimper as he gripped onto Ronald like a teddy bear. Before Eric could control himself he quickly turned on his heel and walked away from the grave sight. He couldn't stand watching it, he couldn't stand seeing the love of his life just disappear like that; like the way he disappeared from Eric's life.

His eyes stung with tears as he rushed through the graveyard and ran from the sight of Alan leaving him. Alan, the light in his darkness, was suddenly going out. Eric could no longer hold the small reaper or make love to him or comfort him. He could never hear his laugh again or see his smile. Eric could never again run his hands through Alan's soft brunette hair or kiss his soft lips. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, his breath getting caught in his chest. Never again could he touch Alan or have any contact with him. Alan was gone for good and no matter how hard Eric found it to believe it was true. Alan wasn't coming back. More tears slipped from his eyes as he began remembering every little thing about Alan. The way he loved gardening, the way he smelled, the way he spoke, they way he would softly toy with his glasses when he was nervous. Eric's heart ached as his mind continued to drift to his lover. His stomach tied up in a knot and he couldn't help but wonder if the pain was going to end.

_By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes, where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond. Where me and my true love spent many days on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. Too sad we parted in yon shady glen, on the steep sides of Ben Lomond. Where the broken heart knows no second spring, resigned we must be while were parting. And you'll take the high road and I'll take the low road, and I'll be in Scotland afore ye; But me and my true love will never meet again on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond_.

Slowly Eric walked up the hill and to the top where Alan's tomb sat. He slowly removed his hand from his pocket as he approached it, not wanting to seem rude. Slowly he knelt down in front of the tomb and took a deep breath. Eric's eyes were red and puffed from crying so much throughout the past three days. Carefully he ran his fingers across Alan's name that was engraved in the stone. 'Alan Nathaniel Humphries'. Eric loved the name, much more than Alan loved his name. He let out a small whimper as his hand traced itself across his date of birth and his date of death. He died much too soon, too soon in his life and too soon in Eric's life.

"S-Sorry I lef' like tha' earlier." He said hoarsely. "I jus'… I couldn' take it, Alan, I really couldn'." He let out a quivery sigh as his hand roamed to Alan's death scythe. "Please forgive me, Al. I just hated seein' ye just put in some patch 'o earth." Silence followed for a few minutes before he slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out some seeds. "I— umm.. Well I brough' ye some seeds to grow. I can' really do much with 'em but I know ye can, Alan. I've always admired yer gardenin' skills." He said softly, planting each of the seeds into the ground just as Alan had taught him to just months before. Tears began streaming down Eric's cheeks again as he finished planting the last seed. "Well, I'm not too good at takin' care of 'em but I know ye can, my sweet Róisín." He said softly. Alan loved being called that. It was Scottish for 'little rose' and Alan would beam and blush and giggle when Eric called him that. It was truly precious. "So please, take care of 'em.." He said before slowly standing. Carefully he placed a kiss on his hand then placed his hand at the top of the tombstone. "I love ye, Alan. I love ye so much." He whispered before he slowly and hesitantly turned on his heel and walked away, weeping bitterly. His light was gone.


End file.
